


Leap

by fizzyblogic (phizzle)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Animals, F/F, Kittens, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-10
Updated: 2012-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-09 14:32:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/456566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/fizzyblogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Ronon as kittens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leap

John is nine weeks old in human time when someone comes to take him home. The rest of the litter are already gone, and so far his prettier and better-mannered brothers and sisters have captured the humans’ interest, but not him. Maybe it’s the flying leaps he’s usually planning to take while they’re there, maybe it’s that he doesn’t curl up in anyone’s lap and purr, maybe it’s the constant getting into everything it is possible to get into regardless of who is yelling at him. Either way, John hasn’t been claimed, and he’s too busy to really care. He’s figuring out how to rig up something so he can leap for longer, but it’s not easy when the humans keep taking away his materials.

A human female shows up and asks to see the red tabby kittens. John hears one of the resident humans say, “There’s only one left, let’s see if we can find him.” He immediately jumps into the nearest box and crouches down.

It’s a little cramped, because the nearest box has spools of thread and cartons of needles and other stuff in it, but John settles himself around the things, listening to their voices. He waits until they’re close by and then leaps out, launching himself as high as he can go.

He lands on the visiting human, who yelps and grabs him. John tries to hit her nose, but the human holds him so he can’t reach. John keeps swiping, though. “The kitten, I presume,” the human holding him says, and one of the resident ones starts apologising. They’re always using that tone of voice around visitors when John’s in the middle of an experimental leap session or takes the opportunity to practice. “It’s okay,” the human says. “I like him.”

John starts purring, still batting at the air with his paws. The humans talk for a while — John spends the time hunting the visitor’s shoelaces — and then he is scooped up and put into a new box that doesn’t smell like anywhere he’s ever been. It’s a while before he notices anything else, because the box is so _interesting_ and there’s a blanket with rucks in it so he hunts those, imagining they’re mice, pretending they move.

“You really are a lively one, aren’t you?” the human says, and John looks up. That’s when he realises they’re moving, and he starts complaining.

“I don’t like the rocking,” he mews. “Where are we going? Are you going to be my pet now? Do I have a house? What’s going on?”

“You probably don’t like the car, do you?” the human says. “Don’t worry, we’re nearly there.”

“Nearly where?” John tries to see out the front of the box, which isn’t solid, but he can’t get a good look and falls over trying.

They stop moving, and the human does something that makes a clicking sound. She disappears from what he can see of the world, and he starts trying to pull the box apart so he can get out. “Hey, hey, stop that,” she says, and he looks up; she’s back where he can see, on his other side, lifting the box. He goes still so he can look out. There’s grass and leafy things and a house, a big-looking house. “Welcome home,” she says, and he hooks his paws into the gaps in the front of the box so he can stay steady but still _see_ everything.

There’s a dog, he can smell it. There was a dog where he was born, he likes them, only they don’t like him much. Maybe he jumps on their paws a bit too much, but it’s just because he wants to play. The front door opens and there it is, a big yellow dog, wagging his tail and being greeted by the human. John’s box is lowered to the floor and he tries to move through the front of it by pressing his face as hard as he can to it.

“Play nice, you two,” the human says, warning tone. John sniffs. The dog sniffs him back.

“Hi,” John says, “I’m John. Least, that’s what they called me at my mom’s. She said I’d get a new name when I came here.”

“Hello John,” the dog snuffles. “I’m Sedgewick. The human pet is Elizabeth, she’s nice. There is lots of food here and comfortable pillows and a garden to run around in.”

“Neat!” John sits up and mews, “Can you let me out, please, Elizabeth?”

“Do you want to come out?” she asks, and he repeats the request. “All right, but remember, play nice. Both of you.” The box opens and John walks out. Sedgewick bends his head down to properly say hello, and they sniff each other from nose to tail.

“I like you,” Sedgewick declares.

“Well good. You smell like an okay guy.” John runs over to the nearest wall to start exploring. “Where’s the best place to leap off?”

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t leap,” Sedgewick says. “But you could probably get a good one from the picture-box.”

“Good idea, thanks.” John jumps onto the cabinet the picture-box is on, then jumps to the top of it.

“Careful,” Elizabeth says sharply, but she doesn’t pick him up or tell him to get down, so he just balances more carefully, gets into a good position, and then leaps at the table. He doesn’t quite make it, but it’s not bad. “It’s a good job I don’t keep breakables out,” Elizabeth mutters, then says to him, “Hey, little one, why don’t we get you some food? I bet you’re hungry.”

He follows her into the kitchen, and winds around her ankles as she gets some food out and pours it into a bowl. She puts it on the floor and he rushes for it; it’s good stuff, really tasty, and he wolfs it down. Elizabeth says, “I think I’ll call you Sheppard.”

=^=

John is two years old in human time and riding Sedgewick’s back into the garden when they hear a car pull up and Sedgewick barks, “They’re here!”

For the past two weeks, Elizabeth and her other human had been tidying, moving things around, and Sedgewick said she’d done it before. “She used to have a human mate,” he’d said, “until one day he left, and she moved a lot of things around and cried for months and I had to give her much comfort.”

“Does she have another human mate now?” John had asked.

“Oh yes, the female who is here all the time. Haven’t you noticed?”

“She never minds when I leap on her,” John had observed. “I like her.”

The car door opens and closes twice. “Teyla,” Elizabeth calls, “where do you want these?”

“Let’s go inside,” John says, “I heard Teyla say she’s got a cat. Maybe she brought it.”

Sedgewick trots to the open patio door and they are immediately confronted with the sight of Teyla with a box containing a large black cat. A tom, by the smell of him, and his gold-green eyes watch as John jumps down from Sedgewick’s back and makes his way over.

“Hi,” John extends a paw to pat gently at the box. “I’m John Sheppard, this is Sedgewick. Welcome to our house. I guess you live here now.”

“I guess,” the cat replies. He stares evenly. John backs away slightly.

“Uh, what’s your name?” he asks.

“Ronon.” His tail flicks slightly, and John backs up further.

“Pleased to meet you,” Sedgewick takes over, sniffing at Ronon’s box in greeting.

“Yeah.” Ronon stares evenly at Sedgewick, whose tail droops.

“Ronon.” Teyla’s voice is sharp. “Be nice.” She opens the box, and Ronon stalks out.

“Hi,” he says. He isn’t puffed up or being aggressive in any way, but John is still intimidated. He’s intrigued, too, and soon he’s going to be more interested than wary. For the moment, he hides between Sedgewick’s paws. “This is your house, huh.” Ronon looks around.

“Yeah, do you like it?” John ventures, walking forward slightly, one paw kept in the air just in case.

“It’s okay.” Ronon sniffs the air, then comes over and sniffs them both in turn. John keeps as still as he can, though he sniffs back, and learns all about the car ride and the apartment that was home from Ronon’s fur.

“Sorry you had to come all this way and live here,” he says. “Humans, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s okay. I guess this is my house too now.” His tail swishes back and forth.

“Want to see the garden?” John brightens. “There’s all sorts of smells, and bugs to catch, and me and Sedgewick were going to have a race.”

“Sure.”

Ronon starts toward the patio door, and as they go outside, John hears Elizabeth say to Teyla, “Well, they seem to be getting along.”

John and Sedgewick race up and down the garden a few times while Ronon crouches in a flowerbed. John wins the race, and Sedgewick sprawls panting on the grass. John runs over to where Ronon is, about to start a conversation about butterflies, when suddenly Ronon leaps at him. John is caught off-guard, but recovers quickly, and they roll on the grass kicking and mouthing at each other’s shoulders. Ronon is yowling in the most perfect joy, and John joins in. They break apart and take swipes at each other with their paws.

“ _Ronon_!” Teyla yells, appearing at the patio door. “Stop it!”

“Sheppard,” Elizabeth calls in that sharp, warning voice John knows means being taken by the scruff of his neck and put somewhere he can’t leap for a time-out.

“Aw man,” John sighs, standing down. “It’s okay,” he calls to the humans, “we were just having fun.” They don’t understand him, of course.

“I know he’s big, but no fighting, do you hear?” Elizabeth says. John kicks at the ground.

“Want to hunt together?” Ronon suggests. John feels better immediately. They spot some beetles and hunt them through the grass, then John bats at a bee without hitting it. “How do you do that?” Ronon asks.

“You have to aim where it isn’t going,” John says, demonstrating. “You can see where it’s been ’cause of the smell, right?”

“Right.” Ronon looks intensely at the bee.

“There are gaps in the flight path, you aim for those.”

“Really?” Ronon gets a paw ready, watching the trail of scent.

“I do it all the time, haven’t been stung once.”

They practice trying to catch butterflies and bluebottles, then hunt each other over Sedgewick’s paws while he naps in the sun. After a while, John hears the unmistakable sound of food hitting a bowl, and bolts inside. Close behind him are Ronon and the just-awakened Sedgewick. “Whoa, whoa,” Elizabeth says, holding two bowls high, “I am only feeding _my_ boys. And calm down.”

“Ronon,” Teyla calls, and Ronon runs over to her as she puts his bowl on the floor. Sedgewick and John line up the way Elizabeth taught them, then she puts their food down and they start eating. John is ravenous, and doesn’t look up until half the food is gone.

Ronon is taking a break from his. Sedgewick is drinking sloppily from his water bowl; John drinks a little from his own and then heads to the room of sitting after Ronon. Teyla and Elizabeth are on the couch, deep in conversation. Ronon settles down in Teyla’s lap.

John jumps onto the table and takes a flying leap onto Elizabeth’s lap. “Not bad,” Ronon says, eyeing him. “You do that a lot?”

“I like to leap,” John says. He turns around and around on Elizabeth’s legs until he finds a good position where he can see Ronon but is also comfortable, and curls up. “How about you?”

“Leaping’s fine. I like hunting better.”

“I like you,” John says, yawning. “We’re going to be friends, right?”

“We already are, Sheppard,” Ronon says, and then John falls asleep.

He wakes up half way when Elizabeth moves him off her lap and onto the couch as she gets up. Teyla is doing the same with Ronon, so John crawls closer and they re-settle with their noses in each other’s tails.

He smells like home.


End file.
